Ever Onwards
by peccatophobia
Summary: There are some things that just aren't meant to end.


The sun is just beginning to come up over Mt. Silver.

There is nobody around to see it, but a wiry old man pushes himself up and goes to sit at the edge of the tallest cliff. He slowly lets himself down, until his feet dangle over the precipice. Here is Red, looking out over the world as dawn rises over Johto. He smiles.

"It's beautiful today," he says.

Pikachu crawls over and nods, smiling sleepily. He has grown fragile with age, and toddles over carefully, crawling into Red's lap. Red laughs quietly, unwilling to disturb the peace that has enraptured the entire mountain. He gently strokes Pikachu's fur, letting his pokémon's heavy breathing fill the air.

Despite having lived in the mountain caves for who knows how long already, Red notes that Pikachu's fur is still soft and clean. He chuckles. "Vain little thing," he says, guessing correctly that Pikachu had managed to find a spring somewhere near the entrance to bathe. Pikachu smiles and rolls over so he's facing the world outside, turned away from Red.

"Charizard would have loved to see this," Red says, memories washing over him like a wave breaking on the shore. "I bet Espeon would too."

Pikachu mutters something in agreement and snuggles deeper into Red's shirt. The man smiles; he can feel his legs starting to go numb- Pikachu are not as light as everyone thinks they are- but he doesn't try to move the Pokémon from its position. Pikachu seems too content for that.

"Do you think things would have been different if I stayed as champion?" he asks, not for the first time. He remembers asking Espeon, and then the snoozing Snorlax, and then Venusaur. Each time, they had not answered him, and he had finally left it at that. But now that they are gone, he feels a need to know what Pikachu thinks. His Pikachu, who has been with him from the very beginning, his Pikachu, who knows all there is to know about him, his Pikachu, who is his very best friend.

Pikachu snorts and rolls over so he can press his face Red's stomach. Red smiles. "Yeah, stupid question, I guess. Of course things would have been different." His only answer is the muffled breathing coming from Pikachu. Red continues stroking Pikachu, just like the old days when they were both young and loud and vibrant and... and...

Red smiles, content, and watches the sun rise. The pale light of the sun paints the clouds pink and orange, like flower petals adrift in the bluish ocean of sky. The breeze is cool, sharp and fresh, and even from atop Mt. Silver, he can smell springtime. Red inhales deeply, ignoring the cough that threatens to escape because it is a beautiful morning and there is nothing that can ever ruin it.

The sun rises and shines like an angel's halo on the five upright slabs of stone.

It is at around this point where Red notices that it is completely and utterly silent. "Oh," is all he says, and he looks down at Pikachu, a sad smile forming on his face. "Oh."

Pikachu is smiling, too.

* * *

><p>Red wakes up in a grassy field, and he does not know where he is. He pushes himself upright and picks up his cap from where it had fallen onto the ground. Dusting it off before putting it on, he stands and surveys the entire area. A clearing, a meadow, surrounded by young trees maybe around his height. The sun in the clearest sky he can remember seeing, the wind slowly caressing his face. He frowns, because this is all very familiar but he can't quite put his finger on it...<p>

A rustling in the grass derails that train of thought.

He spins around and stares at a single patch of grass. A bright yellow ball of fur is curled up, long black-tipped ears twitching at every noise. Red tilts his head curiously and kneels, reaching a hand for the mysterious yellow creature.

Something shocks him.

Red yelps and draws his hand back, looking at the electric rodent unfurl itself. It glares defiantly at him, sparks flying out of the two red spots on its cheeks. Despite himself, Red laughs. This is also familiar, and even though he still cannot summon up the memory, he doesn't mind it as much; he _knows_, deep in his heart, he knows, and even though his mind cannot recall, some part of him still remembers.

He extends a hand. "Hi," he says, grinning. "I'm Red. You want to come along with me?"

The Pikachu squints at him, as if evaluating every part of his personality and soul. It stares for quite a while but Red steadily holds his gaze, confident and smiling. He is young and brash and proud, and he knows that the Pikachu is the same way.

The Pikachu grasps his hand with a tiny paw. Red's grin widens, and he sees the beginning of a smile start to form on Pikachu's face as they shake hands. Afterwards, it leaps up onto his head with almost practiced grace, and Red laughs at the sudden weight on his head. "You're quick, aren't you?" he asks, not really expecting a response.

The Pikachu laughs.

Red, still smiling, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes again, there is a dirt path worn into the ground, old and used like it was there the entire time. Lightly, he tilts his head in the direction of the path. "Where do you think that path leads? I don't know about you, but it looks like adventure to me."

They walk. Under the clearest blue sky, they walk.


End file.
